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ON THE 



IMPORTANCE AND MEANS OF CULTIVATING 



SOCIAL AFFECTIONS AMONG PUPILS. 

BY J. BLANCHARD. 

u 

DELIVERED BEFORE 

THE AMERICAN INSTITUTE OF INSTRUCTION 

AT ITS ANNUAL MEETING. 

BOSTON, AUGUST 1835. 









SOCIAL AFFECTIONS AMONG PUPILS. 



Mr President, and Gentlemen of the Institute : 

Desire of society is as truly a part of our natures, as 
the dread of anguish or the love of life. This simple 
original desire, finds its gratification in the exercise of those 
natural affections, which interest us in the welfare of our 
kindred, our friends, our acquaintance, and our race ; and, 
together with these affections, it forms that complex class 
of emotions, which we call the social feelings ;* and these, 
again, being constantly excited by the circumstances and 
relations of life, grow into a permanent habit, and become 
the all-pervading, master-feeling of the soul. All other 
passions and powers of the mind are subsidiary to this, and 
the entire universe is built in that manner which is best 
adapted to cherish these feelings, and bring them to per- 
fection. We may, then, infer the high worth of the social 
affections, 

I. 1. From the estimation in which God holds them. 
This we may learn by viewing His works, in the same way 
that we get at a man's opinion on a given subject, by ex- 
amining his conduct. For it cannot for a moment be sup- 
posed, that the Creator would have made the whole range 
of objects in nature co-operate together in the production 
of a set of feelings which were not designed to answer 
important purposes in the system of things. Now even the 
lifeless forms of inorganic matter, are so constructed as to 
excite the social affections in the minds that study them ; 

* For classification, see Dugald Stewait's Works, vol. iii., p. 408. 



4 MR BLANCHARD S LECTURE. 

and hence it is, that the students of Sweden, where the 
natural sciences are pursued with uncommon ardor, are far 
more amiable and social than their neighbors, the untiring 
Germans. 

The mineralogist, no sooner falls on a crystal or garnet, 
but he searches the immediate vicinity, with confident ex- 
pectation of finding the bed of earth or of rock, where sleeps 
the whole sparkling family to which the stray individual 
belongs. It is thus throughout the material world. The 
pearl and the diamond, no less than the rubble and the 
sandstone, repose in clusters or in concrete masses, and 
the whole surface of the earth is strown with endlessly 
varied forms of matter, which are grouped together with 
their kindred forms for no imaginable purpose, except to im- 
press a social structure on the young minds which behold 
them ; and thus to form a fit frame-work for a social globe. 

2. But the social features are more clearly discernible 
in whatever of matter possesses motion or life. If our eye 
could take in at a single glance, all the waters which mur- 
mur on the globe, the whole busy multitude of streams 
would seem well to represent one vast family, whose mem- 
bers, though constantly dispersed by opposing elements, 
are as constantly stealing by their several courses, to the 
same home. Not a flower on the freckled bosom of earth, 
seems willing to grow unseconded by its mate. And even 
the shrubs and trees, when left single, instead of climbing 
toward heaven as is their nature to do, seem stretching out 
their arms in search of their lost companions. 

3. Besides the grouping together of similar forms, there 
are myriads of unseen influences abroad in the world, both 
known and unknown, whose magnetic virtues compel all 
things to depend on all. Thus every particle of matter has 
its soul, though not in the sense which the heathen philos- 
ophers taught ;* and by its attractive properties, it stands 
connected in ten thousand ways with the entire material 
machine, so that a single irregular pulsation in the remotest 
part, must make the whole frame tremble ! These views 
have been versified by one whose feelings were in unison 
with the truths above stated. 

* Good's Book of Nature, Sect. 4, on Matter and the Material World. 



SOCIAL AFFECTIONS AMONG PUPILS 3 

" What thing created brooks to exist alone ? 
Even the dull rock claims kindred of its own ; 
The tree left single spreads her widowed arms 
To share with pollard mates her verdant charms; — 
Rills to each other's bosom steal with care, 
Blend into one, and flow more quiet there; — 
While stars in clusters gather as they move, 
And light the lamps of friendship and of love.'* 

4. Rising from the low ground of dull material forms, 
to the sprightlier region of animal natures, the eye is almost 
pained by the instant rush of interminable and countless 
clusters of social beings. The silent shell fish, that grow 
on rocks, though senseless, are yet social, and seem to find 
a mute enjoyment in each other's presence. The micro- 
scope reveals the fact that every flower is a separate realm, 
peopled by a society of beings which observe their own 
laws, and pursue their little pleasures, animated by a mur- 
muring music, which, by placing the flower close to the 
ear, even our coarser organs enable us to perceive. No 
animal is able to subsist alone. Those wild animals which 
are caught and caged, are able to drag on a wretched exist- 
ence, only because the human beings who tend them, 
afford a meagre substitute for the society of their mates. 
The silent schools which wander "through the paths of the 
seas," are continually swarming in their social gambols : — 
While the softest and richest — nay, almost all the music 
of this lower world, is made up of the language of its ani- 
mals, telling each other of their happiness, or making known 
their wants. 

5. Thus while we trace this series of animated beings 
from one mode of life to another, down to the shadowy 
margin of emptiness itself; or follow the same series, as it 
holds upward through higher and still higher gradations, till 
the whole glowing chain of immortal intelligences is lost in 
that concentrated blaze of brightness which veils forever, 
and forbids all approach to the Eternal Throne ! — 
Throughout this mighty range we cannot find one inde- 
pendent, isolated being. The universe itself is nothing but 
one illimitable group of societies, bound together by ties as 
real and indissoluble as those by which they are fastened 
to existence itself! So true is it, that the Most High hath 
imprinted a social aspect upon the fore-front of all his 

* Pleasures of the Social Affections. 



6 MR BLANCHARDS LECTURE. 

works, to the end that whoever becomes acquainted with 
the smallest part of them, may feel within him the stirrings 
of that social nature which was originally implanted in ev- 
ery breast. And it is thus most plain, that those affections 
which the Deity has seen fit to cultivate at an expense of 
arrangement whereto all his works are made to contribute, 
must be, in his estimation, who rates all things at their true 
value, of higher importance than any or all the remaining 
powers ol the soul. 

II. 1. But again: The reasonableness and necessity 
of cultivating the social affections, may be argued from the 
fact, that they make the most important part of the faculties 
of the soul. Strike out the social feelings, and a mere 
intellectual skeleton is all which you leave. Memory, be- 
comes a useless register of uninteresting particulars ; — 
Reason draws inferences from uncared for facts ; — and the 
Understanding, like an antiquarian judge, is busied in the 
decision of cases in which no one feels interested : — For 
our social nature is the silver cord which binds together all 
our faculties into one harmonious whole. 

2. Moreover we ought to cultivate the social affections, 
because they are concerned in the production of all the 
misery and all the enjoyment incident to human life. If 
properly regulated and judiciously cultivated, they are the 

" Suns of the soul ! Sweet solace of all wo! 
Balm shaded founts whence rills perpetual flow : 
Whose healing dews with life's harsh waters blend, 
Till he who lives a stranger looks a friend."* 

But if they are neglected or perverted, the spirit is imme- 
diately plunged in feverish inquietude or gloomy discontent. 
The proverb " Corruptio optimi, Pcssima,' "f applies with 
tenfold propriety to the social affections, for the mischief 
they occasion when perverted or suppressed, is in full pro- 
portion to the pleasure of which they are capable when 
vigorous and sound. Robert Hall has said : " The sympa- 
thies, even of virtuous minds, when not warmed by the 
breath of friendship, are too cold to satisfy the social 
cravings of our nature. The satisfaction derived from sur- 
veying the most beautiful forms of nature, or the most 

* Pleasures of the Social Affections. 
t The best thing corrupted becomes the worst. 



SOCIAL AFFECTIONS AMONG PUPILS. 7 

exquisite productions of art, is so far from being complete, 
it almost turns to uneasiness, when there is none with 
whom we can share it ; nor would the most passionate ad- 
mirer of eloquence or poetry consent to witness their most 
stupendous exertions, upon the single condition of not 
being permitted to reveal his emotions."* 

Families are often made the seat of unutterable wietch- 
edness, by the unsocial habits of ii single individual ; and 
that too, often, when the same individual possesses a good 
natural understanding and a kind heart. The father, per- 
haps, from being compelled by his situation to rely much 
on his own judgment, falls into the unsocial and hateful 
habit of allowing no member of his family to think for him- 
self in the smallest matters, and in consequence is 
dreaded as a dictator, rather than revered as a parent. 
Or the mother happens to be one of those sublimated 
ladies, who have contracted a wanton indifference to the 
feelings of others, by perpetually refining upon their own. 
The children will copy the faults of both parents, according 
to their several tastes. One will aim at decision of char- 
acter, and land upon obstinacy in trifles. Another falls 
into a whining delicacy and considers herself privileged to 
make war upon the cheerfulness of whatever company she 
is in. A third unites the faults of both parents in the same 
character, and is hourly vibrating between the odious ex- 
tremes, — overbearing arrogance and fatiguing childishness. 
A fourth is moody and low spirited, and thinks this mon- 
strous excuse a sufficient justification for not being cheerful, 
And, in fine, the whole family are agreed in no one thing 
but the neglect of each other's peace ; and thus, without 
anything positively wicked in their hearts, they are con- 
stantly running foul of each other's feelings, until impa- 
tience is exasperated into fretfulness or jealously, and the 
family becomes a fount* in of bitter waters; — and all for 
the want of some one to show them that it is the easiest 
thing in the world to be happy. It is no exaggeration to 
say that the families of New England have suffered more 
domestic unhappiness from the above-named causes, than 
from all others put together. It is often painful to observe 
in some families, a child of a naturally amiable temper, un- 

■ Works of Robert Hall, p. 124. 



8 MR BLANCHARD 'S LECTURE. 

dergoing this souring process, witliout knowing how to 
escape, or what to do. 

3. Ill regulated social feelings produce nearly all the 
fretfulness and repining, melancholy and dejection, so com- 
mon in society. If a man has learned to " rejoice with 
them who do rejoice, and weep with them who weep,"* 
there will always be enough happiness in the world to pre- 
vent his being wretched, and enough of misery to secure 
him from the dizzy flights of extatic joy. But when, from 
neglect of cultivation, the social feelings sink into selfish- 
ness or sensuality, the imagination becomes introverted or 
polluted, and the heart is thenceforth a festering centre of 
uncomfortable emotions. Thus one man pines under the 
disappointment of his wishes, and another sickens by their 
gratification. Such people are always unhappy, always 
haunted with the consciousness of the vanity of this world, 
unrelieved by the hopes of a better ; and though not always 
perfectly miserable, they are never quite content. Their 
most comfortable state is a mere vapid vacuity of bliss. 

" The heart's affections, like earth's brilliant streams, 
Must flow in channels; — radiate in beams; 
If once self-centred, to their source they turn, 
Like pools they stagnate, or like meteors bum."t 

4. But the languid and odious habits of complaining, 
melancholy, and moroseness, are the mildest forms of per- 
verted social feelings. They also give rise to the more 
boisterous and deadly emotions ; — " Pride, stung with im- 
aginary neglects and insults ; Envy, wretched at the con- 
templation of another's felicity ; and Anger, burning with 
resentment, and impatient for the execution of its purposes 
of retaliation ; and the other turbulent passions, which, like 
the frozen viper in the bosom of the rustic, invariably sting 
to death him in whose bosom they are cherished. "J The 
man whose social feelings are right, feels his own peace 
impaired by whatever inflicts a pang upon a fellow being. 
But when the social out-goings of our nature are stifled or 
perverted by selfishness or neglect, like smothered fires, 
they eat into the very substance of the soul, and produce 
the volcanic eruptions of furious anger, mad enthusiasm, 
or unbridled licentiousness ! 

*Rom. xii. 15. t Pleasures of the Social Affections. 

$ Prof. Hough's Sermon. 



SOCIAL AFFECTIONS AMONG PUPILS. iJ 

5. For these reasons, among other motives of policy, 
the church of Rome has with dreadful forecast, laid the 
foundations of her iron despotism in perverted social feel- 
ings. By forcibly exiling her clergy from the ten thousand 
nameless endearments of domestic life, she has trans- 
formed them into a species of epicene monsters in whom 
the social longings of our nature flow out in fanaticism or 
stagnate in lust ; and by letting them loose upon the mid- 
dle ground between the sexes, she has made them the 
just terror of both ! They are thus become a species of 
half way race, in most respects " sui generis" possessing 
the fractious and cunning obstinacy of the mule, without 
the generous nature of the horse, or the patient stupidity 
of the ass.* 

6. In striking contrast with the Romish priests, stand 
a class of beings who are their opposites in everything 
except the unrelieved evil of their lives. I mean modern 
infidels. The priest attempts to smother, the infidel to 
prostitute the social affections. The first seeks to stifle 
the sympathies and starve the spirit by the imposition of 
galling vows and emaciating penance ; the last turns the 
soul loose to browse on the common of vice! If the two 
classes be compared, the priests have a decided advantage. 
Their apparent austerity has the merit of seeming difficult ; 
while the licentiousness of the atheists is attainable even 
by swine. Romanism furnishes some check on the morals 
of the laity, and makes a very efficient prop to a tottering 
throne; while the Atheism of modern times, is mere disor- 
ganization embodied in a creed of negatives. It is like the 
long sought universal solvent, which in its work of disso- 
lution, would not spare even the vessel which contained it. 
Nor can I learn that auy one ever attempted to apply it to 
any practical use, except, like the present, as a philosophi- 
cal illustration, to show how opposite extremes in evil meet 
in crime ; and to set forth in a clear light the damage 
which the soul suffers when the social feelings are violated 

* I paused upon this sentence to see if in justice it should not be soft- 
ened, but could find no milder terms capable of expressing the result of 
my convictions after much personal intercourse with the Romish Priests 
in Canada and elsewhere. If any fear the representation too highly col- 
ored, they will do well to consult the " Catholic Herald," published at 
Boston. 



10 MR BLANCHARD'S LECTURE. 

by the neglect of proper culture, the arbitrary friction of 
unnatural impositions, or the unhinging libertinism of a 
Godless infidelity ! 

7. But if we would see the importance of cultivating 
the social affections in its real magnitude, we must look at 
the influence they are to exert in fixing the soul's standing 
in a future state. 

To do this effectually we must here pause a moment in 
our progress, and look abroad upon the general subject of 
intellectual and moral cultivation: — a field, which com- 
prehends, in its wide embrace, the whole business of men 
on earth, and the entire employment of spirits in heaven. 
Man's errand on earth is, to obtain a competent amount of 
information, reduce it to practice and then go away to 
enjoy his intellectual and social supremacy in a brighter 
and a better world. But that supremacy is mainly to con- 
sist of enlarged and comprehensive affections united with 
the information which is necessary to make them acquainted 
with the objects of love. And hence, those who have the 
most enlarged and elevated social affections, are farthest 
advanced in the learning of eternity ! For this social part 
of our natures is the scale of character upon which differ- 
ent degrees of excellence are marked down in heaven. 
Hence, also, those acquisitions and enjoyments which be- 
long only to this life, resemble those darkling flowers which 
bloom through the night, but close their eyes at the rising 
of the sun ! " Whether there be tongues, they shall cease. 
Whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away."* 
Nay ! even the pious confidence of faith, and the beamy 
raptures of hope shall go out amid the realities which they 
promise ; and the soul shall stand forth in the awful mag- 
nificence of her renovated affections, like some mighty 
temple whose grandeur is enhanced by taking away the 
loose scaffoldings, which were useful only in the early stages 
of its erection. That point in a man's life when his mind 
ceases to improve, is merely the signal for the soul to close 
her terrestrial concerns. The wings of the imagination 
droop — the thoughts creep silently back upon their original : 
attention dies ; memory relaxes her hold and lets fall her 
bundle of the past, and the whole man seems the relic of a 

* 1 Cor. xiii. 8 



SOCIAL AFFECTIONS AMONG PUPILS. 1 1 

former age, and a way mark to the future world ! But 
our social blessings are neither restricted to time nor limited 
by space. As those insects, which are about to pass from 
the vermicular to the winged state x pass a short period of 
insensibility before they escape from their exuviae and float 
on the sunbeams of Heaven : so, also, the soul finds, in old 
age and death, but a momentary suspension of her progress 
toward perfection. And the (ew steps of her advancement 
which lie in this world, are but the beginning of what will 
be an ascending flight, which shall tower aloft, until from 
her high elevation the spirit looks down upon the highest 
star : — the key-stone of the Arch of Heaven 1* 

8. Now, then, contrast the present benefits which the 
social affections confer, with the future enjoyments which 
they promise. Here, our dearest connexions are often 
sources of pain ; there, they are productive only of delight. 
The scenes of friendship and the solaces of home, — nay, 
the more exhilarating instances of social enjoyment, where 
bosoms beat in the harmony of early affection, or repose 
in the quiet of conjugal love, — all, all are fluctuating and 
fading as the painted beauty of evening clouds, which 
are now burnished in brightness, and now darkened into 
gloom ! Far be it from me to underrate the value of fire- 
side joys, where, though the wind be loud and the storm 
relentless, a circle of glad hearts respond to each other's 
caresses in all the easy variety of domestic bliss. But what 
are all these, when once compared with that enjoyment 
which " eye hath not seen — neither hath it entered into 
the heart of man to conceive ! "f Moreover, those who 
are made partakers of future happiness, not only enter upon 
that state with the certainty that their social enjoyments 
will never end, but also with the transporting assurance that 
they will always increase. Who, then, shall calculate the 
importance of cultivating the social affections, — the very 
channels through which all the bliss of eternity must flow? 

9. But the social feelings must be cultivated, if ever, 
when the mind is young and pliant. Hear on this subject 
the testimony of Dugald Stewart : " It is in consequence 

* These remarks, of course, apply only to the spirits of "them that are 
saved." 2 Cor. ii. 15. 

t 1 Cor. ii. 9. 



12 MR BLANCHARD'S LECTURE. 

of their imitative propensity that children learn insensibly 
to model their habits upon the appearance and manners of 
those with whom they are familiarly conversant. As we 
advance in life, this imitative propensity grows weaker, our 
improving faculties gradually diverting our attention from 
the models around us to ideal standards more conformable 
to our taste ; whilst, at the same time, in consequence of 
some physical change in the body, that flexibility of the 
muscular system, by which the propensity to imitate is 
enabled to accomplish its end, is impaired or lost."* 
Youth is always gentle, docile, and affectionate. Even 
the whelp of the lion or tiger responds to your caresses 
with the playful innocence of unweaned infancy ; — but 
tomorrow, it will tear in pieces the same hand which, today 
it licks in very fondness. A change not remotely analo- 
gous to this, passes upon the human character in its transi- 
tion from infancy to manhood, at least, so analogous, that 
if men are ever to form social and amiable characters, you 
must imitate the hunters and take them when they are young. 

III. What, then, are the best means, by which a preceptor 
may cultivate the Social Affections among Pupils ? 

I. In the first place, he must feel the necessity of 
making specific and strenuous effort to accomplish this ob- 
ject. He must not suppose that mere intellectual progress 
is social improvement. Dr Beecher has said " that mere 
intellect is nugatory, and may be cultivated to any extent 
without purifying the affections or enlarging the heart." 
We suppose the devil to possess a vast amount of knowl- 
edge with but little relish for society. And common ob- 
servation teaches us that a man may be very knowing, 
and, at the same time, very base. The minds of some 
men seem to be as mathematically regular, and as regularly 
cold, as fraught with lore and as full of death as the Pyra- 
mids of Egypt. Yet it is a painful fact, that education has 
been conducted almost as if there were no social feelings — 
nothing but naked intellect. We have analysis of taste, 
memory, imagination and reason ; but where, except in 
the bible, which also, is too little studied in the schools, 
where is the youth to learn how to bear an insult, or over- 
look a neglect ; — to overcome his hatred of those who are 

*Dugald Stewart's Works, Vol. III. p. 112. 



SOCIAL AFFECTIONS AMONG PUPILS 13 

disagreeable, and practice that rarest of virtues, a uniform, 
cheerful good nature 1 Even those who have written on 
the philosophy of the human mind, have said next to 
nothing on the subject of the social affections. They have 
considered our daily intercourse, only as made up of trifles ; 
not reflecting, that these very trifles, though like the wa- 
tery particles, they are individually so insignificant as to be 
invisible, yet in their aggregate capacity, make up the 
mighty ocean of life on which we sail. Thus they have 
simply put down " the desire of society," as "among the 
original and universal principles of our nature,"* leaving 
fiddlers, dancing-masters, and Chesterfields, to inform us 
how this " desire of society " ought to lead us to behave. 

2. Suitably impressed with the importance of the sub- 
ject, the preceptor must set about removing every obstacle 
to the free and delightful social enjoyment of his pupils. 
That no external hindrances may exist, he must see that 
his rooms possess neatness, convenience, and, if circum- 
stances permit, a degree of elegance. You cannot be 
cheerful or agreeable in a filthy, smoky, or otherwise un- 
comfortable room. The mind borrows its tone from the 
objects by which it is surrounded. Savages are savages, 
because, among other things, they live in the huts of sav- 
ages. 

3. Externals being properly adjusted, the preceptor 
may then address himself to the giant task of subduing 
what is refractory and hateful in the dispositions of his 
pupils. He finds that a child naturally hates others for 
one of three causes : 1. He thinks them disagreeable. 2. 
That they misuse him. 3. Or else they stand in the way 
of his getting something which he desires. In short, a 
resentment founded in pride, and fostered by selfishness, 
is the antagonist power to every social influence, and 
takes the form of disgust, anger, or envy according to the 
nature of its object. But for these malevolent passions, 
children and youth would be perfectly happy in each 
other's society ; for they naturally love those, 1st. whom 
they think agreeable ; 2d. who treat them well ; and 3d. 
whom it is their interest to love. No pirate is so apostate 
from humanity, as not to have his favorite felon. Now 

■ Dugald Stewart, Vol. III. p, 408. 



14 MR BLANCHARD'S LECTURE. 

were these unsocial and bad passions eradicated or sub- 
dued, it would be perfectly easy to rear their opposite vir- 
tues. For there are multitudes who can do a kindness 
without haughtiness, to one who can bear an insult with 
calmness ; and, as all the " passive virtues are the most 
difficult to practice," the youth who has learned to observe 
these, will not find it a task to perform the social duties of 
active benevolence. The preceptor, will not, of course, ex- 
pect to expel every wrong passion by direct effort ; but in 
the language of Dr Palev, " by so mollifying their minds by 
just habits of reflection, that they will be less irritated by 
impressions of injury, and sooner pacified,"* until the hate- 
ful emotion altogether cease. 

4. The preceptor should, then, in private converse, and 
familiar remarks, explain to them their duty as to the vari- 
ous forms of disgust, anger, and envy. Let him insist that 
it is no virtue to love those who happen to please us, since 
pirates and cut-throats do commonly this same thing. If, 
then, they would rise a single step above the vilest and 
most cruel of human beings, they must feel a cordial affec- 
tion for all, even the froward and unlovely. Let them un- 
derstand that this affection must answer that most strikingly 
philosophic definition, " Let us not love in word, neither 
in tongue, but in deed and in truth :"f anything short of 
this, being branded as infamous hypocrisy. To enable them 
to do this, the preceptor must show them that every person, 
idiots and lunatics excepted, has good qualities enough to 
make an interesting character, and if they do not discover 
these excellences in every person they meet, it is because 
they lack ingenuity or tact to discover or draw them out in 
conversation. Every perfect human soul is an interesting 
thino - ; and is capable of affording an hour's entertainment,, 
by relating its bare dreams for a single night, to any person 
who has either kindness or curiosity. Every teacher knows 
how natural it is to dislike those scholars who are refrac- 
tory or disagreeable. The difficulty, in such cases, is, not 
that the scholar has no engaging qualities, but that teach- 
ers want either the wit or the inclination to discover them. 
The man who takes colts to break, is called a blockhead if 
he bring them back complaining that their motions are un- 

* See Paley's Moral Philosophy, Chap. vii. 1 John, iii. 18. 



SOCIAL AFFECTIONS AMONG PUPILS. 15 

gainly and awkward. The teacher is to the mind of his 
pupils, what the groom is to the body of the horse. 

5. Another important object of a preceptor's efforts, 
should be, to make his pupils habitually sensible of their 
own faults. He should inform them distinctly, that each one 
of them has some things in his or her appearance, disposi- 
tion or life, which are exceedingly disgusting. And he 
may boldly appeal to the consciousness of each one for the 
truth of what he asserts. Few, indeed, are those, who if 
their hearts were letters, would dare to have their nearest 
friends read them. And as a person never feels more ten- 
der of others, or appears more amiable than when modestly 
sensible of his own imperfections and faults ; il a teacher 
can make this state of mind habitual among his pupils, the 
most difficult part of his task in subduing their evil tem- 
pers is done. 

6. But the most difficult thing which students find in 
the practice of the social virtues, is, to get over the ill-treat- 
ment which they receive from others, and retain their 
sweetness of temper. This, however, can be done. To 
guard his pupils here, the preceptors should teach them to 
look upon the misdoings of others, not merely as crimes of 
which they are guilty, but also as evils by which they must 
suffer. When children have been ever so ill-used by one 
of their number, if the offender is brought up and they see 
he must suffer, their resentment commonly melts into com- 
passion, and they wish they could save him the very blows 
which he is to suffer for maltreating them. So also, mur- 
derers in the prisoner's box, and confronting the court, 
commonly excite more sympathy than the wretches whom 
they have butchered, or the friends whom they have bereft. 
The reason is, that the people see they must suffer the pen- 
alty of their crimes. Now, if pupils can be brought to feel 
that every instance of misconduct which they witness must 
shortly be exposed in the court-room of creation, and re- 
ceive sentence in the concentrated gaze of an assembled 
universe! — and that those who are not wise enough to 
secure a substitute, will be compelled to endure the bloody 
inflictions in their own persons ; let them once feel — ha- 
bitually feel this, and resentment and hatred will drop out 
of their hearts ; nay, rather, they will feel such commisera- 
tion towards the ill-tempered Rnd the vicious, that when 



16 Mil BLANCH ARD'S LECTURE. 

ft 

they are in conscience forced to inform their teacher of vile 
conduct in others, they will do it, 

" Sad as angels for the good man's sin, 
Blush to record, and weep to give it in.''* 

On this point, I shall be pardoned for relating an anec- 
dote which occurred recently in my own experience. 
Frances, a young miss of sweet disposition and agreeable 
manners, came to me in tears on account of rude and un- 
kind treatment from one of her mates. I asked what prov- 
ocation she had given ; " None at all, sir/' and it was 
doubtless true. "Why then does she misuse you so? 
Are you quite sure you have given her no reason to be of- 
fended with you ?" " None, sir," she still insisted. I 
then asked Frances what she supposed was the real cause 
that her class-mate treated her thus ; whether it must 
not be because she had a bad natural disposition? " No, 
sir," again ; " she would not accuse her of that, but she 
could not tell what she meant by her conduct." I then 
asked Frances, if she would be willing to take her class- 
mate's turn of mind in exchange for the abuse of which she 
complained. ' : Oh, no, not" she cried eagerly ; "I would 
rather suffer ill-treatment myself than misuse others." " It 
seems, then," I replied, " that your class-mate's condition 
is, by your own confession, vastly worse than your's, so I 
shall reserve my sympathy for her. The same things of 
which you complain, will, doubtless, make her disagreeable 
to others, and will thus torment her through life unless she 
escapes from them. Thus, you see, you ought to pity and 
love her for the very things which you seem disposed to 
blame. For a bad disposition, is in this respect, worse 
than a broken limb, — it is much harder to be cured." I 
need not say, Frances left the room with a light heart and 
smiling face, and I heard no more of her wrongs. In some 
such way, may pupils be taught, that anger and hatred are 
both uncomfortable and useless; and that those who mis- 
use us, will, sooner or later, be the greatest sufferers by their 
own folly. 

7. But when the preceptor has succeeded in expelling 
disgust at offensive qualities, and resentment for injurious 
treatment in others, he has still to grapple with a more 

* Campbell's Pleasures of Mope, 



SOCIAL AFFECTIONS AMONG PUPILS. 17 

odious and natural passion. It is true, " Wrath is cruel, 
and anger is outrageous, but who can stand before envy."* 
Envy is a night-ghost, which dogs emulation in all her 
paths. The way to treat emulation in a school, is, just as 
God treats it in the world. That is, let it entirely alone. 
Do nothing to provoke it into action, but substitute nobler 
principles of action, as fast as you can get them into the 
mind and heart of your pupils. But do not attempt to 
tear emulation out of the soul, except by showing how 
mean a motive it is, compared with a sense of duty and a 
love of good. But envy will still exist. The reason why 
it is so common even among children, is just this. Every 
body supposes some others are better off than themselves. 
But 

" If every one's internal care 

Were written on his brow, 
How many would our pity share, 

Who raise our envy now. 
The fatal secret when revealed, 

Of every aching breast, 
Would show that only while concealed, 

Their lot appeared the best.'! 

The preceptor's best way to cure envy, is, therefore, to 
let his pupils at once into the wonderful secret, that, in this 
world, every person finds just as much difficulty as he 
knows how to dispose of, and oftimes more trouble than 
he knows how to endure ; — that the spirit l#is a power of 
adapting itself to great burdens, which hold the soul steady 
by their own weight, so that the slightest troubles often 
produce the sorest pangs ! — That while the rich, the beau- 
tiful, the proud and the gay, are harassed by overweening 
desires, and tormented by real or imagined sorrows, " There 
is," all of the time, " One who tempereth the wind to the 
shorn lamb!" Let pupils be made to feel this; and the 
moment such truths once gain permanent possession of 
their hearts, envy, with her whole brood of subordinate 
vipers, — slander, malice, and detraction, repining and 
fretfulness, will fly hissing and drewling from their bosoms ! 
When they see mankind as they are, with a burden fitted 
to every shoulder as great as it can bear, they will not, un- 
less they are very brutes, desire to increase the load, or trip 

* Proverbs xxvii 4. t Anonymous. 



IB - MR BLANCHARD'S LECTURE. 

the feet of any pilgrims on this brief and precarious voyage 
of life.. 

8. Besides the instructions specified above, the precep- 
tor must devise such as shall meet the peculiarities of each 
individual. In private conversation, he must always take 
into consideration where a child has been brought up, 
whether in a city, village, or country district ; and if he can 
get an inside view of the family where he has been raised, it 
is all the better. There are faults peculiar to every place, as 
there are weeds to every soil. Besides his private conver- 
sations, he should daily fix his eye on some one of the 
innumerable mischiefs which creep upon the intercourse of 
pupils, and make that the subject of a few brief remarks at 
night. Impudence, impertinence, swearing and other vul- 
garity, may be treated successfully by likening them to 
something which they truly resemble, and he should always 
have an abundance of comparisons and illustrations on 
hand. For all insignificant follies, and filthy habits of con- 
versation among pupils, partake of the nature of bats and 
cannot bear the light ; so that if a preceptor but examines 
them before the school, always applying the Ciceronean 
test, " What is anybody to gain by it ?" these minor evils 
will fly away. If the preceptor, for instance, enables his 
pupils to perceive the similarity which exists between a 
youth pouring out oaths, and other filthy and odious 
speeches, and a person undergoing the operation of an 
emetic, the school will be like to remember the illustra- 
tion the next time they hear a person swear. But ridicule, 
like a rusty weapon, leaves poison in the wound, though it 
removes an excrescence, and should seldom be used at all, 
and never upon individuals; for if it improves their man- 
ners, it does it at the expense of the heart. 

9. But when the preceptor has done all he can in the 
way of staling duties and rules of conduct in particular cir- 
cumstances, he has still the more difficult task of making 
his pupils practice them. For in the present state of hu- 
man nature, you will never get a man to enter on a course 
of action, till you convince him he will be a gainer by it in 
some way or other. I do not say that there is no virtue 
which rests on higher ground than selfishness. But this, I 
say, that no man was ever yet converted to virtue or reli- 
gion, who did not suppose he would be better off by the 



SOCIAL AFFECTIONS AMONG PUPILS. 19 

change, and it does no hurt, at least, if you wish a man to 
enter on the path of duty, to let him know that it leads to 
heaven. Now, the preceptor can convince his pupils, in a 
thousand ways, that they will be gainers by rigidly observ- 
ing their social duties, and avoiding every rankling and 
resentful passion, even when they are wronged. Indeed, 
it is so evident, no man ever made anything, on the whole, 
by a quarrel, that if everyone would soberly pause, and 
ask what he is like to gain for himself or anyone else, 
before entering on hard feelings or bitter words, few, very 
few, would either be harbored or spoken. If he must be 
wronged in his interest or feelings, and the law would not 
protect him, he would endure it as he does a hail storm or 
a plague, staying himself upon the hope of future sunshine 
and sound health. You will perceive, at once, that these 
are principles which the venerable William Ladd, and the 
Peace Society are worthily laboring to disseminate. 

10. But what pupils are to gain in their interests by a 
disposition to " bear all things and endure all things,"* 
may be clearly made to appear from our utter dependence 
upon one another. For, though all whom we meet may 
not have it in their power to do us a kindness, yet no 
one is so mean as to be incapable of doing us an injury. 
And none, therefore, can safely be neglected as impotent, 
or despised as weak. A few small worms may sink a 
whole fleet, which has outlived a thousand tempests. 

1 1. Yet pupils are most likely to be excited to a right 
cultivation of the social affections, by showing them what 
they are to gain in their manners. For every one would 
like to be agreeable. And the free exercise of the social 
feelings, makes their possessors the most interesting people 
on earth. It produces the utmost simplicit;/ and sincerity 
of manners ; for those whose feelings are kind to all, have 
nothing to conceal. And " nothing except what comes 
from the heart can render even external manners truly 
pleasing." " Not the warmest expressions of affection, the 
softest and most tender hypocrisy, are able to give any sat- 
isfaction, where we are not persuaded the affection is 
real."f Dr Brown's celebrated definition of politeness, 
places in clear light the connexion between the social aftee- 

" 1 Cor. xiii. 7. Spectator, No. 170. 



20 MR BLANCHARD'S LECTURE. 

tions and the manners. " Politeness," he remarks, " is 
nothing more than a knowledge of the human mind direct- 
ing general benevolence. It is the art of producing the 
greatest amount of happiness, which, in the mere external 
courtesies of life, can be produced by raising such ideas or 
other feelings in the minds of those with whom we asso- 
ciate, as will afford the most pleasure, and by averting, as 
much as possible, every idea which may lead to pain."* 
From which it appears, there can be no such thing as true 
politeness, without tenderness of the feelings of others. 

12. Moreover, not the manners alone :— The very coun- 
tenance is improved and beautified by the social affections. 
What Addison has said of the virtue of good nature, may 
be affirmed with tenfold truth of these. " They are more 
agreeable than wit, and give a certain air to the counte- 
nance which is more amiable than beauty. "f The faces 
of corpses appear much the same, though the contour of the 
face, and the prominent features remain unchanged by 
death. The varied and endless diversity of living faces, de- 
pends, mainly, on what is called the language of the looks, 
or " expression of countenance," which is little more or 
less than the expression of the social feelings. If these are 
active and amiable, the countenance will be gentle and 
agreeable; but a handsome face without sweetness of tem- 
per, is a contradiction in nature. It may be fine, it cer- 
tainly is not fair. It is perversion of language to talk of 
the beauty of a snake because its colors are fine. 

13. In this way may the preceptor labor to clear away 
the obstructions which lie in the way of the social feelings, 
but the affections themselves can only be called into action 
by the omnipotence of example. You may inform the 
intellect, in many things, by precept alone ; but teaching 
the affections by precept, is a fiat absurdity. There is a 
chameleon habit in our natures, which makes our feelings 
change their color to those we behold. What Horace has 
so finely said of the emotion of grief, may be repeated with 
equal propriety of the social feelings : " If you would make 
me weep, weep yourself."}: Hence there is no more ludi- 

* Philosophy of the Human Mind, Sect. 4. t Spectator, No. 119. 

$ Si vis me Here, dolendum est 

Primum ipse tibi : — Hor. De Art Poet 102. 



SOCIAL AFFECTIONS AMONG PUPILS. 21 

crous spectacle on earth, that a pair of sturdy polemics, — 
both claiming a profound acquaintance with the laws of the 
human mind, and both violating its simplest principles, by 
attempting to argue and reason each other into the meek- 
ness and love of the gospel. If one would just feel the 
emotion he wishes to produce, and let the other look in 
his face at the same time, he would accomplish his pro- 
fessed object, without uttering a single word. If there be 
a sight to match this, it must be that of an austere, morose, 
overbearing or snappish teacher, hoping to lecture his 
pupils into cheerful and amiable beings. If ever a man 
should be amiable, if ever he should be able to blend a 
horror of vice and misconduct, with the utmost kindness to 
those guilty of it — if ever he should be above irritation, 
and private resentments, it should be when he undertakes 
the care of young minds. These are the qualities which 
conferred on Socrates, the prince of preceptors, his terres- 
trial immortality ; and gave him such a mastery over the 
minds and hearts of his pupils, that his decisions were to 
them as the oracles of God. Listen to the account of Soc- 
rates, given in the simple and beautiful narrative of one 
whom his instructions had raised to a pitch of greatness, 
which the human character has seldom attained, and never, 
perhaps, in all respects, surpassed. " I observe all other 
teachers," he remarks, " showing their pupils by what 
means they may put their instructions into practice; and 
urging them to this by argument: — but I saw Socrates, 
exhibiting in himself, the goodness and excellence which he 
taught, at the same time, discoursing in the happiest man- 
ner, concerning virtue and all human perfections."* 

14. Next to his own example, the preceptor should 
rely on that of others, both living and dead. He should 
never let a day pass without bringing before the minds of 
his pupils some striking trait in the characters of those who 
have distinguished themselves for command of temper, and 
persevering kindness, under ill-usage. Such, for instance, 
as the story of Pericles, who, after patiently enduring the 

* As all translations must fail of presenting the beauty or the entire import 
of the original, I shall transcribe the passage paraphrased above. Jlurrag 
$g rovg SiS^axovrug OQco avrovg dti/wi-Tug tj ro'tg iiaiOaruvntr, ijrrtQ avroi 
rcoiovoiv u StSunxovoi xai rio Xoyta 7TQog(Sifiat,o\Tctg. Oitia dt rat StoXQaTtjv 
dttxrvrra Totg $vvovot savrov xa?.ov xtiya&ov ovra, xai SiaXeyttierov xaXAtcrra 
Trtqi ctQtrrc xai aXltrr *ettd(ia)7rtvtiw. — Xen. Mcmorab. Lib. I. Cap. II. 17. 



22 MR BLANCHARD'S LECTURE. 

railing and reproaches of an impudent villain who followed 
him in public with curses the whole day ; and having 
despatched much important business in the meantime ; 
when night came, and the fellow had followed him home, 
all the way reproaching him with a deformity of his person, 
or some of his actions : — sent a servant to light the rascal 
home, as the only punishment he chose to inflict. Such 
was the calm, unruffled temper of Pericles, — the man who 
controlled, by the force of his own genius, the stormy re- 
public of Athens, during the extraordinary period of forty 
years. And such was the strength and purity of his social 
feelings, that he accounted his never having made an Athe- 
nian put on mourning, as the brightest feature in a long 
life, which he had distinguished by everything which is 
splendid in success. 

Fenelon, who was, at once, the most amiable of tutors, 
and the most virtuous of men, was in the constant practice 
of teaching by the example of others. I shall take the lib- 
erty of loosely putting into English, the sentiments, which 
he represents Minerva, in the form of Mentor, as uttering 
to the young Telemachus, in praise of a character, which 
she proposes for his imitation. " His frankness," contin- 
ues she, " in acknowledging his faults ; his mildness ; his 
patience under the severest rebuke ; his courage, in pub- 
licly repairing the mischief he has done, and thus exposing 
himself to the shafts of envy and satire ; all indicate a soul 
truly great. It is far more glorious thus to recover ones 
self, than never to have fallen."* 

This method of instruction should be pursued, in short, 
oral lectures, as often as once each day. And the precep- 
tor should not only illustrate his meaning, by anecdotes 
from the lives of eminent men, but he should bring the 
subject to the very condition in which his pupils are, or ex- 
pect to be, placed in life, and show them how Pericles, 
Titus, Vespasian, or Peter, Emperor of Russia, would 
have conducted, in just such circumstances as theirs. Could 
teachers be induced to set about the business of presenting 

*Sa simplicity k avouer son tort, sa patience pour se laisser dire par moi 
les choses les plus dures ; son courage contre lui-meme pour r6parer pub- 
liquement ses fautes, et pour se mettre par Ik an dessus de toute le critique 
des hommes, montre une ame veritablement grande. II est bien plus gloir- 
eux de se relever ainsi, que n'etre jamais tombe. — Fenelon. 



SOCIAL AFFECTIONS AMONG PUPILS. 23 

characters to their pupils, either as " patterns to imitate, or 
examples to deter," they would find the same passion, 
which creates such an absorbing interest in the youthful 
bosom, while they pursue some imaginary hero through the 
intricate windings of some insipid novel, may be employed 
to their infinite advantage, by enabling them to behold, as 
in a glass, the social feelings in the characters of others, 
until they become changed into the same image. 

15. The last means of cultivating the social affections, 
which I shall mention, and the one without which all oth- 
ers will inevitably fail of their intended effect, is the influ- 
ence of Christianity. " There is a chasm in the construc- 
tion of mortals, which can only be filled by the firm belief 
of a rewarding and avenging Deity, who binds duty and 
happiness, though they may seem distant, in an indissoluble 
chain."* The heathen philosophers were enabled to under- 
stand and practice the social virtues, only in proportion as 
they approached this belief, while the whole multitude of 
their times, beyond the reach or rescue of their philosophy, 
lay wallowing in the styes of pollution and excess, or 
writhing under the hard hand of disease in wretched stalls 
of poverty, whose porter was death. In truth, pupils have 
nothing, but this belief, which can encourage them to per- 
form the self-denying part of the social duties. For the 
world was always more or less unreasonable and ungrateful. 
Of course, he who labors and contrives for the good of 
mankind, needs the excitement of an ever-present God, 
who will not suffer any, even the least good emotion of his 
heart to go unrequited ; but whose glory it is, both to re- 
ward openly the things done in secret, and, at the same 
time, to conduct his government with such punctilious 
exactness, that " there is no darkness or shadow of death 
where the workers of iniquity may hide themselves."* 
Such, in substance, was the belief of Socrates, J and it was 
this which raised him above the malice and vengeance of 
the Athenians, and enabled him to persevere in treating 
them kindly, while overwhelmed by the storm of their per- 

* Hall on Infidelity. f Job xxxiv. 22. 

T yvdjOU to $tiov,"oTi roaovror xat toiovtov icim , o'jod' I, tin 



■jTixvra OQqv, xat nana uy.ovtiv, xai 7T<x\Tctyov TtaotCvat. y.ai aua TTuvXuiv 
tniiifkuafiai. — Xcn. Memorab. Lib. I. Cap. IV. 18. 



24 MR BLANCH ARD S LECTURE. 

secution and abuse. Those, only, who fear God, are 
above the fear of man.* 

But if the preceptor means his pupils shall rise above the 
social condition of the heathen Greeks, he must not be 
content to teach only those fundamental truths concerning 
the existence of the Deity ; he must daily inculcate some 
portion of that which distinguishes Christianity from reli- 
gion ; — some one of that bright constellation of soul-puri- 
fying truths which cluster around the " Lamb of God who 
taketh away the sin of the world." Let him do this ; not 
in the heedless indifference of casual remark ; but with the 
solemn earnestness of affectionate belief. And let him 
remember, while he is thus employed, he is laboring upon 
the very materials, out of which heaven is made ; and he 
may exult in the consciousness, that he is applying the only 
means, 

Which bid the chastened spirit hope to share 
Those social sweets which bloom immortal there ! 

Gentlemen of the Institute — Suffer me, in closing 
the present remarks, to ask you, to reflect anew on the 
serious importance of the business in which you are occu- 
pied. In a perfect state of society, the whole amount of 
human effort is concentrated upon two objects, the culture 
of the mind, and the welfare of the body ; and for such a 
state of society, prophecy bids the world to hope. It is fit, 
then, that you should annually convene upon this spot, 
where human freedom first dared to draw her breath, to 
deliberate on the means for the more perfect disenthral- 
ment of the human intellect, that no tyrant error may chain 
down her energies, and no insatiate habit may prey upon 
her wealth. The business of the teacher, though toilsome, 
is yet delightful, and though retired and unobtrusive, is yet 
fundamental to the social fabric. Legislatures may enact 
laws, but education must originate their conception, and 
interpret their meaning. Governments may check and 
restrain, but duty and obedience are the results of instruc- 
tion. The hopes of our country depend on the bias which 
the minds of her children and youth receive ; and, in the 
providence of God, the prospects of mankind are nearly 

* Souvenez-vous que ceux qui craignent les Dieux n'ont rien a craindre 
des homines. — Fenelon. 



SOCIAL AFFECTIONS AMONG! PUPILS. 25 

identified with the hopes of our country. But this is not 
all. Though the present interests depending on our sys- 
tem of instruction, are so vital and so vast, these interests 
are destined to become more and more momentous, as the 
melioration of our race advances, and the plagues by which 
they have long been infested, one by one die away. 

Up to the present date in the history of the world, per- 
haps one half of the energies of mankind, have been, 
directly or indirectly, wasted in the business of war, or 
crippled by systems of oppression. And at least one half 
of the remainder has been squandered in the dreams of 
error, or annihilated by the operations of vice. But there 
is evidently a looking towards a time of quiet among the 
nations, and the boundless energies, which shall from time 
to time be called off from the declining affairs of human 
slaughter and oppression, can find employment only in the 
subjugation of nature, and in making her yield up her 
stores for the comfort of the body and the improvement of 
mind. So, also, if the christian hope is to be realized, and 
the whole scheme of vice is to become gradually a sinking 
concern, then every new conquest of virtue will turn loose 
a host of recaptured energies into the same fields of blessed 
industry, until the whole outgoings of human power, shall 
converge in the two harmonious points, — the acquisition 
of knowledge, and the reducing of it to practice; and thus 
exhibit to the admiring universe, a world whose entire pop- 
ulation are occupied in doing good either to the body or 
the mind. And this is a perfect state of society. 

On reviewing the preceding remarks, it cannot but be 
observed that the rules laid down for cultivating the social 
feelings, are such as, if children once thoroughly imbibe, 
they could not but shrink with horror from all war, spirit- 
ual despotism, slavery, intemperance, and impurity — the 
head evils under which the world at present groans. For 
that social affection which would enable them to suffer 
wrong with kindness, would of course restrain them from 
the wanton commission of it ; and it is thus evident, that 
while we are laboring to extend the dominion of principles 
like these, we are doing all in our power to hasten the ap- 
proach of that period, renowned in the history of things, 
after which the eyes of successive generations have gazed 
with dimming eagerness, when the jubilee of universal 
4 



26 MR BLANCHARD'S LECTURE. 

emancipation shall sound ; for every fetter is broken, and 
the temples of vice and infamy are forever fallen ! 

The result of the whole is, that if the above representa- 
tions contain anything of truth, the business of ascertaining 
" how to teach the best things in the best manner," is 
second in importance to none other ; and although we and 
our children may die without witnessing the results toward 
which our efforts look, yet will our last moments be cheered 
by the consciousness of having labored aright, and illu- 
mined by the assurance that the world will yet realize that 
bright anticipation, toward which 

" We oft have gazed, and gazing deemed we saw 
The social bond a whole creation's law ; — 
One realm of peace the universe become, 
Mankind a brother-hood, and earth a home ! "* 

* Pleasures of the Social Affections. 



APPENDIX. 



The following paragraphs contain subjects for short oral lee* 
tures to pupils on closing the school at night, each one of which 
should be illustrated by suitable anecdotes, drawn from living 
characters or from history. 

1. Never be jealous either in love or friendship. A little time 
will make it plain if your love is not reciprocated, or your confi- 
dence is abused. But if you manifest the least jealousy, you will 
disgust your friend and create hatred if it did not exist before. 

2. A sad face is like a tax-gatherer who takes something from 
the comfort of every one he meets. If you are in trouble, do not 
trouble others with your sorrows, only when you need their sym- 
pathy or assistance; then do it cheerfully. 

3. Do not hate those who are disagreeable. You do not hate 
a person who has a hump upon his back, yet a crooked body is 
nothing so great a misfortune as a crooked soul. 

4. Do not be fretful when those whom you love treat you ill. 
It is ten chances to one that you have given them some provo- 
cation ; and, if so, your anger is unreasonable; if not, it is use- 
less. Besides, if unprovoked they have mal-treated you, their 
disposition is a standing curse, while your high injury will soon 
be forgotten. 

5. If you find it hard to get rid of a fault, write it down and 
read it every Saturday night. 

6. When in company with those who are rude and coarse in 
their manners, be doubly on your guard. They will endeavor 
to bring you to conduct like them and then despise you for it. 



28 APPENDIX. 

A clown always respects a gentleman, even when he finds fault 
with him. 

7. The way to be agreeable is — 1 . To love everybody as the 
Bible requires — 2. Be perfectly sincere — 3. Do or say nothing 
unless you know it is strictly proper. 

8. Fix it in your mind that one condition in life is but a trifle,, 
if any happier than another, that it is quite probable those in 
the best situations are the roost wretched. 

9. If you complain of circumstances beyond human control; 
that is as if you were saying God does not manage his own busi- 
ness aright, and you wish he would do better. But if you com- 
plain of the conduct of men towards you ; it is as if you thought 
God would not correct them, so you must take it in hand. 

10. Remember no one is above you except those who are 
more virtuous and pious : and that innocence may make you at 
ease in all companies. 



